LLOYD, PAUL R. (5 page)

“I was.”

“You mean some girl made up a story
about you raping her just for the fun of it?”

“She made up the story.”

“For the fun of it?” Denise’s
finger touched Micah’s nose.

He stepped back. “I have no idea
why she did it. I thought she liked me.”

Denise placed her hands on her
hips. “She allowed you to go to prison based on a lie?”

“Yeah.”
            “I don’t believe you. You must have done something.” Denise folded
her arms in front of her.

Micah scratched the top of his
head. “I’ve asked myself what I could have done for her to call it rape, and I
never came up with an answer.”

“A girl knows when she is raped,
Micah.”

Micah scratched his head. “She was
only fourteen, but yeah, she sure knew how to describe it in detail at the
trial.”

“You must have hurt her.”

“Fell in love with her older
sister.”

“You cheated on her?”

“No. I mean I dated the older
sister. Then one day the little sister announced I had raped her. Next thing, I
was in jail. Then a trial. My word against hers. Jury believed her. I got ten-to-fifteen.
Parole board refused parole. It was such a horrible crime because she was
jailbait, and I never acknowledged my guilt, so I served the full fifteen.”

Denise placed her hands in her
pockets. “She never recanted her story?”

“Nope.”

“You must have done something.”

Micah grabbed Denise by the
shoulders. “Yeah, I lived with real thieves, robbers, murderers and rapists.”

Denise shoved him away.

The ghost of the pioneer woman sat
in an ethereal rocking chair and knitted in the corner of Micah’s front
bedroom.

Across the room, Denise scrunched
her nose at Micah. “Your paint smells too much of plastic for my taste.”

“You don’t like the smell of
paint?” In his left hand Micah held a coffee can half filled with dark red,
almost maroon wall paint. The brush in his right hand dripped excess paint.

Denise waved her hand at the ghost.
“Go.”

The ghost hissed at Denise while
holding her ground.

Denise punched Micah on the
shoulder. “Hurry. You’re coming with me.”

“Okay, let me grab a towel and change
of clothes first. Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll know when we get there.”

“But first the shower.” Micah
pointed down the hall.

 “May I shower with you?”

“Aren’t we in a hurry?”

“Okay, shower by yourself if you
want. I already showered anyway. I’m sure Fritz enjoyed leering at me. By the
way, how long has she been here?” Denise waved a hand in the direction of the
spirit. “You okay, honey?”

“She doesn’t speak. She watches but
she doesn’t try to communicate.”

Denise spun in Micah’s direction
and pointed a thumb over her shoulder towards the ghost. “She hissed at me a
minute ago. Didn’t you see her do it?”

“Not with my back to her while I
painted the wall. Maybe she’s jealous.”

“Why is she dressed like that?”

“She’s a pioneer ghost.”

“You’re kidding.” Turning to the
ghost, Denise said, “Hey, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

The ghost stood up, hissed and
disappeared.

“I don’t think she likes you.” Micah
shook his head back and forth a few times and then placed the coffee can with
the paint in the corner of the room and the brush in a container of water. He
placed a plastic lid over the can.

“I could cast a spell on the paint
and make it cover the wall while we’re out.”

“Naw, it would leave brush marks. I
won’t be long.”

In less than an hour, Denise pulled
into the parking lot at Ulysses S. Grant High School. It was after five in the
afternoon, but the lot was filled with cars.

“My alma mater,” Micah said.

“Yeah, mine, too, but I’m about
twenty years after you.”

“Better make that ten. I’m coming
up on my high school class’s twentieth anniversary and as young as you are,
you’re not eighteen.”

Denise poked Micah on the arm. “When
I say I’m twenty years younger, I mean twenty, not ten. Just for that, you can
take me out to dinner afterwards. Or before. Your choice.”

“After or before what?”

“After the presentation. I promised
Ahlman I would be here when he presented the check to the school.

“So that’s what this is about. Who
is this guy Ahlman anyway?”

“If you met him, you’d know.”

The couple emerged from Denise’s
late model silver Chevy Malibu. They strolled to the building’s main entrance.

Micah opened the glass front door. “I
met him at Bob’s Coffee Emporium. He seems a bit odd to me.”

“He’s an angel,
Micah.”

“If you say so.”

“He’s giving the high school a
check for one million dollars. And he recently moved to Naperville.

“Buying his way into the
community?”

“A million dollars buys a lot of
welcome.”

“I’ll have to try it sometime.”

“With your record, you would be the
exception to the rule, at least in Naperville.”

Micah and Denise made their way
down a long corridor of lockers and classroom doors. Denise stopped by one
locker and placed her right hand over it. She dropped her eyes and mumbled.  

“Praying for the locker?”

“Something like that.”

“Your old locker?” Micah moved in
close behind Denise.

“My enemy’s locker.”

“So that wasn’t a prayer?”

“I like to renew the spell every
once in a while. Keeps the bastard on his toes even if he hasn’t been in this
building for ten years.”

When they came to the auditorium,
Denise led him to a seat near the back. “Cozy, don’t you think?”

Micah leaned on the armrest. “I
never considered it cozy when I attended school here. I kept a low profile.”

“Yeah, me too.” Denise took Micah’s
hand.

“So what kind of play are we going
to see?”

“No play. It’s a presentation. The
check, remember?”

Within a few minutes, the lights
dimmed and a spotlight lit a small area on the stage. The red velvet curtains
parted. A man crossed the stage and stopped by a microphone in the area lit by
the spotlight.

Denise pointed to the man on stage.
“That’s Jacob Wormglieter. He’s on the school board. Weird old bird.”

When Wormglieter opened his mouth
to speak, Micah whispered, “Is it my imagination or did a fly pop out of his
mouth and fly away?”

“Didn’t see any fly.”

“If it was, maybe someone cast a
spell on him.”

“Somebody did.”

Jacob Wormglieter’s voice was high
enough to screech. “We’re here tonight to acknowledge a unique and special gift
to Ulysses S. Grant High School from one of Naperville’s newest residents. To accept
the award, I’d like to ask our principal, Dr. Lionel Langdon, to come to the
stage. Dr. Langdon.”

Micah gave Denise a nudge on the
arm. “Dr. Langdon is the principal?”
            “Yes.”

“Then I like sitting back here. In
fact, we should leave.” Micah stood.

Denise gazed up into Micah’s eyes. “Bad
memories? He wasn’t principal back when you attended, was he?”

“No, he taught social studies.”

“Well, he’s been principal for a
long time.” Denise turned back to the scene on stage.

“We don’t have to greet him in a
reception line, do we?”

“Not if you don’t want to. Are you
still afraid of him after all these years?”

Micah wiped his mouth with his
hand. “I’m not ready for anything unpleasant.”

“Here comes Ahlman with the check
presentation.”

Ahlman Brown wore a charcoal grey
business suit. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a white
envelope and handed it to Lionel Langdon. “This check is a gift from me, but the
money is from friends of mine who were gracious enough to pool their resources
when I told them about this school and how important education is to this
community where I am happy to now make my home.”

The audience applauded and when
someone down front stood, so did the rest of the audience.

“You’re a real angel, Mr. Brown,”
cried a female voice near the front.

Once the applause died down, Lionel
Langdon stepped to the mike. “You are indeed an angel, sir. On behalf of the
parents, the staff and most importantly, the students, it is an honor and a privilege
to accept this generous donation.”

Another round of applause followed.
When it ended, Lionel Langdon announced that the audience members would find
drinks and snacks in the school cafeteria.

Denise stood up. “Come, I want to
introduce you to Ahlman.”

“I met him already. Think I told you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you away
from Dr. Langdon.

Micah followed Denise out of the
aisle. “Let’s leave. We can catch up with Ahlman another time.”

“Nah, this will take but a minute.”

On the way to the cafeteria, Micah studied
the lockers, trying to remember if his was among them.

A deep masculine voice spoke behind
them. “Denise.”

Micah turned around as Ahlman Brown
strutted up to them with Lionel Langdon by his side.

Denise patted Ahlman on the chest. “Ahlman,
you’re such an angel giving the school so much money!”

“Denise Appleby, isn’t it? It’s so
nice to see you again.” Lionel Langdon held out his hand. “I always enjoy when
one of our graduates returns for a visit. What’s it been now, about ten years?”

Micah continued to stare at Denise,
while absorbing a blast of heat from Lionel Langdon.

Denise shook Dr. Langdon’s hand.
“Ten years come June.”

“Well, your principal is still your
pal. Who’s your friend, Denise?”

“Oh, this is …”

“Just an old friend.” Micah lifted
his head to catch Lionel Langdon’s eyes and then looked back down, shoulders
hunched.

“Hmm, something’s familiar about
you,” Lionel Langdon said.

Micah could feel Lionel’s eyes on
him, but he refused to look up.

“The cookies await,” Ahlman said.

“Yes, we must have the cookies.”
Lionel Langdon strode towards the cafeteria with Ahlman following. Denise took
a few steps in the same direction before Micah snagged her by the elbow.  

Micah circled to face Denise. “I
promised you dinner, remember?”

“What is your problem with Lionel
Langdon? Or don’t I want to know?”

“Do you know Peevy O’Malley?”

“No. Is she your ex-girlfriend, the
one with the sister?”

“Yes.”

“What about her?”

“Lionel Langdon is her stepfather.”

“You will tell me about your past, won’t
you?” Denise twirled her stem glass of deep red wine.

Micah winced. “I’d rather not. I’m
afraid you won’t want to speak to me anymore.”

He took in the dark, romantic
atmosphere of the Italian restaurant with its faked village decadence as
expressed in the holes in the plaster revealing red brick beneath. Where the
plaster remained intact, hand-painted murals of Venice attempted eloquence. Wine
bottles dotted the open areas around the walls and along the fluted decorative
concrete columns that appeared to support the building.

Denise lifted her Chianti about
half way between her plate and her mouth. “See, it’s statements like that and
avoiding pillars of the community like Lionel Langdon that make me want to know
more.”

“No little secrets between us,
then?”

“Nope, I already know you served time
for rape.”

The waiter, dressed in peasant
blouse and black slacks, interrupted them and placed a plate of Linguine Carbonara
in front of Micah’s place and Mellanzani Rollatini in front of Denise.

“Aren’t you supposed to serve the
lady first?” Micah asked.

“If I see a lady, I’ll serve her
first, sir.” The waiter turned and drifted away.

“That son of a…”

“It’s okay, Micah. I know him. He’s
an old high school friend. He was kidding around.”

“I didn’t appreciate his sense of
humor.” Micah picked at his pasta with a fork.

“I could cast another spell on
him.”
            Micah locked eyes with Denise. “You could what? Oh, yeah, that
would be funny. Turn him into a frog.” Micah smiled.

“I’d turn him into a seventh
grader.”

“That might be too cruel.”

“Speaking of cruel, you have some
explaining to do, mister. How could you hurt a young girl?”

“Do you believe I would do such a
thing?”

“Not the man I see in front of me,
but what about the Micah Probert of twenty years ago?”

“He didn’t do it either.”

“But you were convicted?”

“Served fifteen years.”

Denise pointed at Micah with her
fork. A dab of eggplant hung from the tip. “So you moved back to Naperville
knowing you would run into the stepfather of the girl you were convicted of
raping. Funny, he didn’t recognize you.”

“Twenty years is a long time. Spend
fifteen years in prison and you don’t come out the way you went in at age
eighteen.”

“So why did you come back to
Naperville?”

Micah fiddled with his napkin,
keeping his eyes on his lap. “Not sure what I’m after. Peace of mind maybe. I
hope somehow to prove my innocence.”

“Little late. What can you do? You
already served your time. Could you sue the state?”

Micah looked at Denise. “No,
nothing like that. I’ll know it when I find it. Right now it’s gnawing away at
my insides.”

“After dinner, we will head back to
my place for drinks. I’ll fix you a brew to kill anything chewing away at your
insides?”

“I don’t think a brew will cure my
problems.”

“This one will. So do you want to
hear about my deep, dark secret?” Denise adjusted her napkin and smiled.

“You have great legs?”

“They’ve been noticed before.”

“You fly on a broom stick late at
night?”